Reflections. June 2020.

Firstly gratitude. Thanks to those back home who supported my trip, mainly with introductions to relatives and friends … to John Allbar, Jane Combelic, Nick Molnar, George & Heather Paul and Diana Gilbert; to Pam Machin for keeping the home fires burning; and to TfL for the sabbatical policy (unpaid leave I should make clear!), and Stephen Couling there who covered my work. And I’m especially grateful to my cousins John and Ann, plus Jeff Combelic, David Johns and Rosemary Furfey, all for their welcome hospitality during the trip. Also, to Kerry Larkin, who sold me a trusty and much valued vehicle which became my home for 4.5 months and some 9000 miles, thank you!

So what had it all been about and what did I learn? A paeon to distant youth? The road trip I never did back in the day? A search for the lost chord? The mythical hero’s journey?

Alain de Botton writes on the true potential of travel …

Work out why we really want to go somewhere; ask how our destination can help us address our motives; and plan how we can embed the lessons into life on return. And then more meaningfully … 

‘The outer journey should assist us with the inner one’. And regarding pilgrimage … ‘Religions have accepted that we cannot develop our souls just by staying at home’.

I guess there was something of this about my trip … taking time out to review life and consider the next steps as I approach retirement age.

One purpose was to connect with my American family. It was great to have touched in with cousins John, Ann and Brian, and other family, back in April, discovering more of the Irish diaspora and how some of those many folk had fared in the land of the free. And to introduce my daughter Rowan to some of her generation of cousins … I hope that those connections will flourish. Emigration on my mother’s side of the family remains more of a mystery, to be researched as time allows.

I’d long thought and dreamt about visiting some of the iconic landscapes and natural wonders of the American west and the Pacific northwest. A little disappointed that I didn't have the real wilderness experience I’d fantasised about … the Parks are much busier than I’d expected and I didn't meet anyone to trek off with for a few days. However, there were some amazing day hikes where I was often alone and entranced in stunningly beautiful places, with the added frisson of knowing there were big carnivores around. Bears are everywhere and with advice and mutual respect we can learn to live alongside bigger predators, perhaps in Scotland again one day. I didn’t make it to the Yukon; nor to California to commune with the redwoods and bristlecone pines, so perhaps another trip is in the pipeline?

My ‘meetings with remarkable conservationists’ (17 in all, see the report page) gave me a real sense of purpose and allowed me to gain a better, and hopefully useful, understanding of the issues. I felt re-inspired to return to my work in ecological restoration in the Highlands. 

The focus on writing these blogs also gave a sense of value to the trip, and I want to thank those of you, family, friends and colleagues, who appreciated my updates. No poetry emerged, you’ll perhaps be relieved to hear. 

It was good to see that the rich indigenous cultures of north America are seeing something of a renaissance, especially in Canada with the directives of the Reconciliation Committee. Worryingly, the US really is a divided nation, even more so than our own, and the future there looks set for conflict. (I wrote this just before the murder of George Floyd).

Personally, the trip had been tougher than expected, being on my own, having to make it all happen; and constantly moving on, my connections with people had inevitably been shortlived. But I am self-reliant and determined, and miraculously, it had all worked out. My thanks again to those who helped out.

As for embedding lessons into life on return, travel puts things into perspective … a greater appreciation of the value of home, my family and friendships; and how fortunate I am to have valuable work to do. ‘The end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time’. T. S. Eliot in Little Gidding. (Picked up the quote somewhere, must read the poem). And Jonathan Raban notes in Passage to Juneau '... journeys hardly ever disclose their true meaning until after - and sometimes years after - they are over'. So it may take time to integrate the experience. Meanwhile, I will keep up the writing, cultivating the muse within; and continue to address the need for activism around issues of environmental and social injustice. 

Re-reading Songlines by Bruce Chatwin, he suggests that we evolved as nomadic beings, having to move on, to migrate, to find enough food and resources to support ourselves and the tribe. Over the 300,000 years of the history of Homo sapiens he believes that this impulse has become hardwired into our psyches. I have sometimes felt this sense of a physical restlessness. I try to recognise my privileged position on the planet as a comparatively wealthy white westerner, not having to journey out of necessity, but perhaps as Joseph Campbell explains in Pathways to Bliss … 

‘What is it we are questing for? It is the fulfillment of that which is potential in each of us. Questing for it is not an ego trip; it is an adventure to bring into fulfilment your gift to the world, which is yourself’.

I hope that these blogs are a gift to you.